


Family ties bind one forever.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: All Creatures Great and Small (TV), All Creatures Great and Small - James Herriot
Genre: Brother, Family, Gen, Loss, Parents, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: Siegfried has a very good relationship with his mother, but Tristan never goes to see her and she never seems to ask  for or about him. Tristan  wonders why.Warning to readers, this story contains actual niceness on the part of  Siegfried. Only a little, mind.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Family ties bind one forever.

Siegfried was half way out the door and Tristan was still talking to him. He had a habit of doing that. Tristan had tried his best to tell Siegfried that such behaviour was very rood indeed but as usual, his older brother had seen fit to take no notice of him

“But I’ve done the night shift for three days in a row now,” Tristan argued hotly, his voice rising in temper as he tried to force Siegfried to pay some sort of attention to what he was saying.

Siegfried turned round and frowned at his younger brother. “I am trying to give you as much practical experience as I can before you become qualified, little brother,” Siegfried said in the condescending manner that Tristan hated so much.

Nodding and accepting the truth of this, Tristan Farnon merely launched into another objection. “But where are you going?” he asked irritably.

“I’m going to see mother,” came the all-too predictable reply, “she isn’t very well and she asked me to go and see her for a while. I’m sure you’ll cope, Tristan. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Tristan was frowning. Siegfried seemed to spend more time with their mother than he did with the animals these days. Every other day, he seemed to find it necessary to dash off and check up on her and from what he could remember, mother had never once asked for her younger son to go over and see her. Indeed, Tristan seemed to have been forgotten. “Do you want me to come?” he asked suddenly, “I’m sure that James can take over for a bit. He and Hellen aren’t up to anything tonight, so far as I know.”

An uncomfortable pause followed Tristan’s question, during which the two brothers stood facing each other, Tristan frowning and Siegfried looking grave. 

“What do you want to see her for?” Siegfried demanded, “you’ve never asked to come before.”

Tristan tried his best to smile. “I know,” he said in as cheerful a voice as he could muster, “I would just like to see her. You see her so often and she never seems to ask for me.”

Siegfried shook his head. “Do you know, she doesn’t ask for you at all. And I don’t think she’ll want to see you today either.”

Tristan shrugged in reply. He was used to his brother’s blunt and often unkind words and so the words themselves did not upset him in the least. What did upset him was the fact that his fears over being no longer needed by his mother seemed to have been confirmed. Siegfried’s tactlessness told Tristan everything that he needed to know. Or at least, almost everything. “Why is that?” he asked, trying his best to make his voice sound as casual as possible.

Siegfried didn’t seem to know the answer to that question. “I’ll ask her if you like,” he said carefully, “though I’m not sure if you’ll be entirely happy with the answer. I’ll ask her if you can go to see her with me next time.”

Tristan nodded, grudgingly accepting this response. It was better than anything he could have hoped for. Siegfried wasn’t usually so willing to show his little brother such kindness.

Such kindness was shattered into a thousand pieces a second later however as Siegfried barked, “now, get on with your work Tristan. Kindly seace this hanging around. You’ve got better things to do than stand around chattering all night. Now, get on with it.”

And his brother was gone, disappearing through the door and slamming it shut behind him with almost enough force to shake the very foundations. Tristan shook his head and wandered back into the surgery. The place was empty now. There was very little to do but sit in idal boredom and wait for the phone to ring. Tristan didn’t want the phone to ring, partly because he couldn’t bear any more farm visits this day and partly because he wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

He made his way into the sitting room and collapsed into a chair, hoping that nothing and no one would rouse him. He didn’t think he could have adequately expressed his usual boyant cheerfulness while thoughts of his mother plagued his mind.

He couldn’t understand it. For years, Tristan had watched Siegfried walking out with the express intention of going to visit mother and not once had she asked for him. Tristan wondered why. It had been that way for years, ever since Siegfried had moved out and bought a place of his own. Mother had all but ordered her oldest son to take Tristan with him. Tristan hadn’t exactly minded this arrangement. Mother had always displayed very different behaviour towards him than she had towards Siegfried. Tristan had grown up considering Siegfried the undisputed favourite. Indeed, it had always seemed that way to him. Now though, the hindsight of adulthood was causing him to reconsider his childhood certainties. He had grown up to learn that people and their emotions were rather complex things. He had lived with Siegfried for long enough to know that. So, what then was the reason for his mother’s reluctance to have anything to do with her younger son?

It was a complex question, one that he couldn’t answer. Tristan sat motionless, gazing into the fire as he pondered every possibility open to him. After long moments spent staring into the fire, Tristan gave up, his eye lids drooping as weariness swept over him. He leaned his head against the back of the armchair and heaved a deep sigh. He considered for a moment trying to force himself to remain awake, but fighting against the tiredness was useless. In any case, it was very unlikely that the phone was going to ring. There would be no harm in snatching a few minutes of sleep. Siegfried wouldn’t mind.

The next voice Tristan heard was a very angry one indeed, a voice that left Tristan in no doubt that his brother did indeed mind. “Sleeping on the job again, little brother?” Siegfried demanded, shaking Tristan awake and jerking him roughly and roodly out of the comfort of his dreams, “I leave the house for two hours and you fall asleep on the job? That’s just typical of you, Tristan. Always slacking off. I’m fed up with it. And look at me while I’m talking to you.”

Tristan sat up and looked into the furious face of his brother. Siegfried was glaring at him, angered by the fact that his brother had the nerve to commit the sin of sleeping while he was supposed to be working. Tristan yawned widely and smiled at Siegfried. “Shall I make a cup of tea?” he asked.

Siegfried nodded, throwing himself into an armchair and glowering at Tristan. “Yes, I think you should, my boy. And be quick about it. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Wondering what he could have possibly done this time, Tristan made his way to the kitchen and took as much time as was possible to accomplish the simple task of making the tea. Siegfried was probably going to bring up the subject of their mother and as he poured the tea, Tristan wondered why he was bothering. It was surely going to be a fairly short conversation. Siegfried was just going to tell him yet again that no, his mother did not want to see him for reasons. That was not a conversation that would be long enough to require the consumption of tea. He poured said tea however and carried the two cups into the sitting room, giving his brother a searching look as he handed Siegfried the cup.

“Well?” Tristan asked as he resumed his place in his chair, “what did mother have to say for herself? Does she want to see me when you go round next or not?” They were bluntly asked questions. Tristan thought that he already knew the answer.

“No,” Siegfried replied in a tone that lacked its usual curtness.

Tristan sighed. He bloody knew it.

But Siegfried placed a surprisingly gentle hand on Tristan’s shoulder, causing the younger man to turn to look at him. “it’s very complicated, little brother,” Siegfried told him in a voice almost as gentle as the hand that rested on his shoulder, “she wants to see you, but she doesn’t think she can bear to see you.”

“What do you mean?” Tristan asked, confused.

“I mean exactly that. Mother does want to see you but she doesn’t at the same time.”

“Why?” Tristan asked.

“You never met our father, little brother,” Siegfried began slowly, “but I did. I remember him. He was a kind man, a man with a good heart and a good sense of humour. He went away to fight in the first world war and died in the trenches. In the battle of the Somme, I believe. You were only a baby at the time.”

Tristan nodded patiently. He knew all of that already. Siegfried talked often of their father, a man who was merely a shadow in Tristan’s life, a face that he knew only from photographs but had never seen in person. “What does this have to do with mother’s refusal to let me see her?” the younger Farnon brother asked.

Siegfried sook his head sadly. “Mother was devastated when she found out about our father’s death. I don’t think she ever really got over it, if you know what I mean. She loved him very much.” Siegfried gave Tristan a look that was full of sympathy. “And you remind her too much of him.”

The silence that descended between them was a rather dense one as the two brothers exchanged glances. Tristan pondered this revolation for a moment. “Is that the reason, then?” he asked presently, “is that why she doesn’t want to see me? Because I remind her too much of father?” It seemed a rather unusual reason to him. In truth, it seemed to Tristan to be a rather selfish reason.

Siegfried nodded. “I think so. You look exactly like him and you look more like him as you get older. Your personality is very like his. You take after him in every way, really. Mother finds it very difficult talking about him or seeing anything that reminds her of him.” Siegfried drew in a deep breath. “But I told her how much you wanted to see her and she has agreed that we might go over there at Christmas. That was the best I could do, I’m afraid. But it’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”

Tristan had forgotten for the moment that he still held his cup of tea tightly in one hand and as if wishing for something to do, he raised the cup to his lips and sipped at the still scalding liquid. He was glad for a reason to look away from Siegfried’s face for a moment. His thoughts were beginning to crowd in upon him and he faught to organise them into some semblance of order. It was not an easy task. So, his mother’s reason for refusing to have anything to do with her youngest son was one wrapped up in grief. It was odd, Tristan thought. If it had been him, he was sure that he would have been more than glad to have a living reminder of the person he loved. He would have treasured that living reminder rather than push said living reminder aside in favour of pretending that the person didn’t exist. His mother though had apparently taken it upon herself to do the opposite. He sighed deeply, thinking of the few photograps he had seen of his father. He supposed that he did resemble his father very closely indeed, but was that enough reason for his own mother to remain distant from him. Tristan quickly drained the rest of his tea, pondering everything that Siegfried had said. She had agreed to allow him to go to see her at Christmas. He supposed that he should be grateful for that. It was a jesture after all, an olive branch of sorts, not that he had anything to thank his mother for. And he did want to see her. Siegfried’s conversations about her weren’t enough. He wanted to see her for himself.

He looked back up and smiled. “Oh well,” he said, trying to sound as cheerful as he could, “that’s better than nothing, I suppose. That’ll be nice.”

Siegfried nodded. “It will, little brother. I must say it was a fight to get her to agree to even that, let me tell you. She was not for having it. But I talked her round eventually.”

“Good of you,” Tristan replied with a smile. There had been more than enough heart felt words then. Typical Siegfried. He rose to his feet and placed his now empty tea cup down upon the coffee table and stretched. “I’m off to bed then,” he said wearily, “I’ll keep an ear out for the phone.”

“I should bloody well hope so too,” came the predictable reply, “and don’t let me catch you sleeping on while on duty again.”

‘Don’t worry, you won’t,’ Tristan told his brother inside his head. It was best not to argue with Siegfried when he was in one of his moods, or ever, really. He merely left the room and made his way to his bedroom, thinking everything over. Life was odd, he thought. People were odd. As he reached his room, he had to suppress a smile. If he took after his father, did that mean Siegfried took after their mother? It would certainly fit. Neither seemed to behave in a manner that normal people did. Yes. It did seem to fit. He supposed that he would find out for himself when Christmas came. That would be interesting.


End file.
